skyrimkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skyrimkinkmeme) wrote2011-10-29 12:36 pm
skyrimkinkmeme) wrote2011-10-29 12:36 pm
Meme Announcements!
ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017
Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.
I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.
The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3
Of Gods and Monsters [3a/??]
(Anonymous) 2013-07-14 01:11 am (UTC)(link)It was still dark when Asta awoke. Good; she hadn't overslept. Windhelm was a hard two day ride, and even though the bitter cold (at night, no less) would be a pain to deal with, she wasn't one to piddle around just because the weather wasn't sunshine and rainbows.
Never one to dwadle in that 'half-asleep' stage, once Asta's eyes were open, she was up. There was no rolling over and going back to bed.
Casting Candlelight in the far corner of the room, she slipped from under the covers. While she'd been hoping to be able to slip out without Mongrel waking, it seemed that the task had been futile. The moment she'd shifted he'd began to stir, giving her those accusatory eyes. He didn't leave the bed, but shifted to watch her while she tossed the night shift in favor of some flexible leather armor. Heavy armor never had been her forte, and she needed something that would also be comfortable for riding- both for her and her horse.
Grabbing her pack (which while she was packing light by her standards, was still fairly heavy), Asta slung the thing over her shoulders before walking out the door. Canlelight dispersed as she left the room, and then she heard a light thud, followed by the sound of scrambling claws against wood. Poor Mongrel; she always felt bad about leaving him, but Lydia liked the dog as much as she did. The Nord had her own assumptions about his past- Mongrel clung to her like a toddler to his mother's skirts, and while he wasn't aggressive towards people, every now and then he'd flinch if Asta or Lydia made too sudden a move.
Reaching a hand down to pat him on the head, Asta wasn't surprised to see he'd shrunk back a bit before raising his head to get some ear scratches.
Giving him a 'all done' pat, she continued on down the stairs, nearly tripping and falling to her death when Mongrel decided he wanted to try and beat her down them.
Picking up her bow from her weapons rack, Asta secured both it and its quiver on her back.
Now for food... She wouldn't need to bring too much- it was just a two day trip and she could buy a meal or two someplace along the way. Never one of the people to push her horse to his limits, Asta normally walked or trotted the majority of the way for long distances, and gave him a break while she ate a meal in some town.
The hearth was still lit up, casting warm shadows on the lower level of the house, so Asta rooted about in drawers for some non-perishables. Tossing what she found in her bag (plus an extra apple or three for her horse), the woman gave an extra go-over through her pack, making sure she had everything. Daggers on her hip, and Asta was ready to walk out the door.
And then Mongrel gave her that soft little pathetic whine that always tugged her heart strings. Damn that dog. Only had him for a month, and he knew how to play her like a fiddle. Of course he wanted to come along; she wanted to take him with her (he'd make cold nights much more bearable) as well, but it was impractical to bring him with her on this trip. Crouching, she gave him a good, thorough scratching right behind his left ear (which had both his tail and a back leg thumping against the wood wildly).
“You can't come with me this time. Sorry, buddy. Take care of Lydia while I'm gone.”
Standing up, Asta ignored the pleading gaze while she exited the house. She could hear that pathetic little whine again, begging her to open the door and let him come with her. They'd already played this game before. He might whine for a while, maybe bark a few times, but he'd get the message and then go back upstairs and pester Lydia until he let her in.
Of Gods and Monsters [3b/??]
(Anonymous) 2013-07-14 01:16 am (UTC)(link)Walking towards the stables, Asta was left to her own devices, so naturally her mind started to wander. Before the Dragonborn crisis, she'd been a simple woman with a simple life. A hunter for the Jarl, she'd followed the herds and and dragged the meat back for the vendors and businesses so they'd have something fresh.
Imperials had taken her horse from her. That really hadn't sat well with Asta. The eight year old gelding had been Asta's thirtieth birthday present to herself, five years ago. After finding sanctuary with the Jarl, Asta had happened across her horse when she'd found a camp of dead Imperials. And he'd been dressed in Imperial horse armor. He'd been hers to begin with, and his 'current' owner had either died or ran off somewhere else. Not her problem. She had his sales papers.
Much as she loved him, her horse was a hunt horse, not a war horse. He was fine with arrows whistling by his ears towards a deer, but he didn't have the moxie for swords slashing near his flanks.
Speak of the devil; as she continued down her moonlit path towards the stables, she could see her gelding munching on some grass. They must have put all the horses out to pasture with the nice weather.
OP returns!
(Anonymous) 2013-07-14 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)You've kept me completely hooked so far :)
A!A
(Anonymous) 2013-07-15 07:55 am (UTC)(link)